


The Blaze Of Bonfire Night

by FunkyinFishnet



Series: Violet Nights [21]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bonfires, F/M, Family, Fireworks, M/M, Relationship(s), Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 02:59:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2565809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bifur liked Firework Night. He liked the smell; he liked how it stained his fingers and filled his nostrils. He didn’t like the paranoia or worry though, he needed to be better at his job, for his family’s sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blaze Of Bonfire Night

**Author's Note:**

> This story features brief scenes and allusions to Kili/Fili, a sibling incest pairing.

 

 

Bifur was looking forward to Firework Night. He liked the smell; he liked how it stained his fingers and filled his nostrils. He had many good memories of burning wood and dancing flames, the flare of sparklers clutched in wayward mittened hands and the mouth-watering aroma of sausages and burgers barbecuing throughout the city. Precious memories featured Florella, leaning into him, laughter and anticipation bright in her expression. The smell of the night always lingered in her hair, Bifur enjoyed unpinning it when they got home, smoothing his hands through it, surrounded by that scent.

 

Florella’s indulgent smile always said that she understood as she wrapped her arms round him, a foot teasing up and down his leg.

 

*

 

Every year, Bifur made fireworks with Bofur, the others throwing jibes at them about singeing Bofur’s moustache or causing Bifur more damage. Bifur grinned ferociously because revenge could always be pointed and effective when he was dolling it out. Bofur slapped him on the back and said it was time to go to their workshop.

 

It wasn't really a workshop though, it was actually more of a safe space. Somewhere they could work without hurting anyone or drawing attention to themselves. They never made anything elaborate, just something that'd burst into colour at the right moment. It wasn’t all that hard to do, there were books and there was the internet. It gave Bifur something different to occupy his hands when he wasn’t typing, because sometimes the plants he could fit into the flat weren’t enough. He missed having more soil and greenery to work with.

 

Bofur held his gaze and didn’t say a word. Bofur rarely needed to, though he did because he liked talking. But he spent just as much time listening behind the bar at Erebor, drawing people’s stories out of them. Bofur knew how to read people. It was useful, especially at times like these.

 

“Flo jetting away again for Guy Fawkes?” Bofur asked, deliberately casual.

 

Bifur thrust a wooden stake narrowly-close to Bofur’s hand. Florella hated being called ‘Flo’ and Bofur knew it. Her name was beautiful in all its fullness and suited every inch of her. Bofur yanked his hand away at the last second and grinned unrepentantly.

 

“ _She’s finishing a job across town today,”_ Bifur told him, grabbing the plastic funnel _. “Then she’s free.”_

 

“Free as a bird, free as a firework,” Bofur replied, almost sing-song.

 

The two of them worked companionably side-by-side, bedding in their premixed fuels that had been thoroughly tested far away from Erebor and Violet Nights. They’d tested a few close to Rivendell though, Elrond had emerged from his restaurant to watch the colours sparkle against the blackened sky but his expression hadn’t seemed anything other than blank. He’d nodded at them afterwards as though he'd been grateful and had asked them to deliver a couple of boxes to Rivendell by the end of the month. He’d paid them well for it. What did Elrond Half want with fireworks? His children were past that age now.

 

They still hadn’t found out yet, though Bifur was always trying to get some eyes inside Rivendell. Bilbo, Belladonna and Dis were all trusted by the Half family but all refused to help. Bifur would get in there somehow.

 

*

 

Inside Violet Nights, everything smelled of pumpkins. Bilbo was using up his Halloween stock, a situation no one was complaining was about. The pumpkin pie was delicious with ice cream; Bifur ate two helpings in one sitting. He'd always love Bilbo's lavender cake best but the pumpkin pie was very good too. Bilbo claimed it was the mix of spices he used. He looked frazzled when he said it.

 

Bifur narrowed his eyes and checked his phone. Had anything happened on any feeds that he should know about? He’d managed to sneak a bug into Violet Nights recently but nothing that was likely to make Bilbo look that unsettled had popped up. Bifur looked pointedly towards Thorin, he looked thin-lipped and displeased. Something had happened.

 

Bifur shoved his phone away and thought about throwing his spoon. Instead, Balin filled a pipe with tobacco and spoke softly but with aged steel.

 

“Any excitement recently, lad?”

 

He could have been talking to Thorin or Bilbo. Bilbo sighed and wiped his hands on a dishcloth. His friend Millie was working on her laptop in a corner, muttering to herself, and there were a few other customers looking curiously at the Durins as they took up space on a lot of furniture. Bilbo kept his voice low.

 

“Someone ruined some of my deliveries and one of my suppliers won't do any more business with me.”

 

Well. Bifur’s eyebrows drew down together. He pulled an iPad out of his bag and began to furiously work on it, anger pumping thick and hot through his veins. Smaug’s smug fingerprints were all over this and somehow Bifur had missed it, how? Bifur was going to split Smaug open, he was going to carve ruin through Smaug’s finances and suppliers. His head scars itched and glowed fiercely with remembered pain, or maybe the pain was new, fresh and vicious, a gift from Smaug. He was...

 

“Bifur.”

 

Thorin got his attention immediately. He was looking steady now, “He’ll be waiting for you.”

 

Bifur asked how Thorin knew that. Thorin spread a hand towards Bilbo who sighed.

 

“The supplier talked about realising the importance of security. And someone called here afterwards asking for Elladan and Elrohir. When I told them the twins weren’t doing a shift that day, he said he’d catch them later and that I should enjoy the sunshine before it fades again.”

 

Sunshine was one of the primary systems that Bifur used to secure their private server. It could have been a glib goodbye but it was more likely a pointed jibe, at the fact that Smaug knew their secrets already. And it’d been a caller that’d been after the twins, they were involved too. Bifur cursed and his fingers flew over the iPad. He had a lot of work to do.

 

“It could be nothing,” Bilbo added.

 

But his eyes said otherwise. Thorin pressed an arm around his shoulders. Bilbo could get other suppliers – Erebor often lost and gained their own suppliers, it was just the way it was for the Durins. Bilbo had been friends with most of his though. Bifur paused and pushed his latest helping of pumpkin pie towards Bilbo.

 

*

 

“I know.”

 

Florella sat beside him, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. Her hair was piled up into its usual beehive, for once flowers were pinned into its thick depths instead of pens or screwdrivers. Her finger and toenails were painted burgundy, matching the flowers and the pattern of her blouse which was voluminous and creative in its overlapping style. She'd had a meeting that afternoon with a very particular and highbrow potential client. Florella had been defiantly herself while carrying an iPad stocked with just how impressive her skills were. She’d gotten the work order.

 

Now she was looking at the coding that Bifur was tackling, trying to dig out Smaug’s taunting cleverness. Bifur had investigated Elladan and Elrohir as well; nothing had emerged since his last dive through their personal lives. So much was known about them already thanks to their public profile. Their mother’s suicide had been a source of media fascination for years.

 

Maybe it’d been a source of fascination for someone else too. Of course. Bifur thumped a fist against the sofa arm and expounded his theory. Florella’s mouth tightened and she nodded. She produced her own iPad and got to work.

 

They didn’t sleep for hours, not when there could be more gifts from Smaug hidden in their systems. Bifur had to find them, he had to be sure. He kept looking until they both fell asleep, side by side on the sofa, coding flickering behind their eyes. Coding and worry and a painful inevitability.

 

*

 

There were good chips at the Overlook café. Bifur ate his way through a newspaper-wrapped portion of them. He watched Gimli chat to a group of kids about his age, there was a girl with red hair and familiar cheekbones talking to Kili and Fili. Bifur surreptitiously took a photo of her with his phone. He’d seen Nori once or twice already, dancing in and out of shops, wearing a lightweight fleece jacket with his hair combed straight and dyed a dark muddy brown. His whole body language was different but he’d revealed himself to Bifur by bumping into him and dropping something into his pocket – cardboard tubing for their fireworks. Nori had once loved working on fireworks with Bifur and Bofur.

 

Bifur was going to get some of the finished product to Nori before the big night itself. Bifur was going to leave them in the Overlook, he was going to give them to the café’s owner Sabrina. He was going to communicate that he was making a delivery for Digs – a dog owned by a friend of Nori's.

 

Fireworks could be signals too.

 

*

 

Bilbo had a new supplier for his dry ingredients. Bifur thoroughly researched the company and kept distant tabs on their records and communication. Smaug could already have an eye and ear on them; he could have made sure that Bilbo chose that particular supplier. Bifur was going to try a different approach to his secret-keeping this time. He wasn’t going to make it obvious where he was pursuing or what he was hiding, he thought he hadn’t been revealing anything before but Smaug had better technicians on staff than Bifur had given him credit for. Bifur was going to be masterfully complicated this time; he was going to tie Smaug up in knots. He was going to be impossible.

 

He made sure that Nori got a good handful of rockets via a delivery to the Overlook.

 

Bilbo gave him a look when he saw what Bifur and Bofur had created, “I thought fireworks were only supposed to be made by professionals?”

 

“You’re looking at a couple,” Bofur told him with a wink.

 

“Of professional what?”

 

Balin laughed and Dwalin snorted, sat next to Ori as he sketched out a firework design to go on Erebor’s website for the week. Gloin and Freya were discussing fruit teas with a couple of Violet Nights' customers. Kili and Fili were stood outside, Kili was leaning his head against Fili’s shoulder, Gimli was with them and so was Elrond’s daughter. Bifur shook his head. He’d never understand the Half family, or Thranduil’s.

 

*

 

Kili and Fili had made a dummy Guy for the family bonfire. It’d been their job to provide one ever since they were tiny. This time, the dummy was wearing corduroy and wool and the bonfire wasn’t enormous. Erebor was open of course so in dribs and drabs throughout the night, the Durins were heading to the little back garden behind the flats most of them lived in to watch the bonfire for a while before going back to work. They had their shifts all worked out.

 

Bifur and Bofur were there with Florella to let off their fireworks. They were confident and Bofur was laughing, striking a match ‘for atmosphere’ though they had lighters on them just in case. The first rocket took a few tries to get going but eventually it took off nicely. Pyrotechnic stars burst across the sky in an explosive cloud of silver and green. Not too far across the city, someone let off a bright-red firework - Nori was fine. He’d be keeping an eye on his homeless friends; they had a system for coping and ensuring that their haunts weren’t disturbed by revellers. They had it worse on Halloween when tricks were too-frequently cruel and aimed at them. They had a system for dealing with that too, it didn’t always protect them though.

 

The air smelled of burning smoke and that finger-edge of excitement. Kili and Fili had been playing with sparklers when Bifur had last seen them; they’d been making bright patterns in the air and making each other laugh. Bilbo had been talking about putting burgers and sausages on the menu at Violet Nights for Guy Fawkes' week. Bifur was looking forward to finding that smell, he’d ask for crunchy onions and strong mustard. He'd eat with his mouth full just to hear Bilbo’s sarcasm.

 

Bifur wrapped his arms around Florella. She was wearing one of his overcoats and her fingers twitched like they were somewhere else. Bofur was letting off the last firework. Oin would arrive soon. Bifur watched the bonfire; the Guy had already melted away, Bifur thought about burning someone else. There were so many ways to do it. His fingers twitched and Florella squeezed his hand.

 

He couldn’t know everything but he would, he had to.

 

The city’s fireworks patterned Florella’s face like artwork. Bifur was already looking forward to unpinning her hair.

 

_-the end_


End file.
